


Business Executives And Bakers

by s6115



Category: Bandom, One Direction, One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 08:04:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s6115/pseuds/s6115
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis's life is simple at the bakery, until Zayn gets a job there and his ex boyfriend Liam, who just might want Zayn back, finds out. Everything starts to spiral out of control then, especially when Liam starts bringing his friend Harry along to his trips to Byrne's Bakers. Also on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Business Executives And Bakers

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is loveoflarry, if you would prefer to read there.

Mary Byrne promised Louis that the bakery would go to him. He was a decent baker, knew all her recipes by heart and they tasted just like her cooking, and he was an even better decorator, and he’d been around since she was in school. Her daughter hated cooking, hated the bakery, and “was off to America to study god knows what,” according to her.

 

Louis knew that, in just two years, it would be his. Most of what he earned went to his sisters and his mum, and some even went to Georgia, went he felt bad enough. He lived in a one room apartment with a tiny kitchenette, and his mum still had four girls to pay for, they needed it much more than he did, and Mary had promised, even showed him the paperwork that said, it would be his once she retired.

 

Then Zayn showed up, looking gloomy and dark, asking for a cup of tea, scone, and if they had any job openings. Mary and Louis had been gossiping up at the front counter like two old birds, clearly they weren’t too in over their heads, but oh, Mary had been the motherly type.

 

“You’ll just do some sweeping and cleaning here and there, love.” Mary instructed him, fitting him with a Byrne’s Bakers apron that tied around the waist. “Louis here, the one with the long lashes, isn’t one to clean much.”

 

“Oi! I resent that.”

 

“Hush now, Lou.”

 

And suddenly, his lonesome hours were filled with the daunting and brooding Zayn Malik, arms covered in colorful tattoos, who’d just moved to London, and wouldn’t say much else. He was constantly checking the mirror, fixing his ebony hair and playing with the silver ring in his ear.

 

“Who’s that?” Niall Horan, a Byrne’s Baker regular, asked, nodding towards Zayn.

 

“That’s Mr. Zayn Malik. He’s new.” Louis tucked his fringe into his knit beanie. “He’s an absolute joy.”

 

“I didn’t know you were looking for any employees.”

 

“We weren’t.”

 

“Oh, can’t be that bad.” Niall smiled. “He’s probably just shy.”

 

Louis had no reason to be jealous. He had been working at the bakery for years now, becoming best friends with Mary. She knew so many things about him, and he had earned his place at the counter when they were actually looking for an employee. He had no reason to be worried. He didn’t.

 

***

 

Louis had seen the boy in passing before, plenty of times. He was pretty sure the bakery was on the boy’s way to work- he stopped a few times a week to see their cakes. They didn’t have labels, if you saw something that caught your eye, you had to come in and ask, and smell the delicious cream cheese icing, red velvet cupcakes and croissants.

 

This morning, however, two months after hiring Zayn, the boy stopped to look at the Tres Leches cake that Louis had decorated for a wedding, and then his big brown eyes lit up in surprise. He shook himself, blushing, and pushed himself into Byrne’s Bakers. Louis didn’t quite understand, because the boy was not looking at any of their treats.

 

He was looking at Zayn Malik.

 

“Hello.”

 

Zayn smiled, and nodded, nervously. “Hi. Uh, hello. Byrne’s Cooker-“

 

“Bakers.” Louis interrupted from behind the till.

 

“Byrne’s Bakers. I don’t, uh.” Zayn gestured to his mop. Niall, who was seated at the counter, started giggling into his coffee.

 

Louis glared at him, and raised a finger to his lips. “Shush.”

 

“That’s alright. I guess this is why I hadn’t seen you-?”

 

“Yeah. What are you doing in London?” Zayn looked incredibly uncomfortable, drumming his fingers on the rod of the mop.

 

“I got reassigned.” The boy explained. “So, you-?”

 

“Oh.” Zayn nodded. “Yeah. I… I’m working now. But if you’d like, we have some really good… food here.”

 

“Baked goods.” Niall shouted. “If you can’t decide, you can’t go wrong with tea and a croissant. “

 

“Thank you, Niall.” Louis smiled. “I’d also recommend a muffin, if you want some fruit.”

 

“Uh, yeah.” The boy nodded. “I’ll take a croissant, to go please.”

 

Louis pulled out one of his warmest croissants, and placed it carefully in a box.

 

“I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around, Zayn, okay?”

 

***

Liam Payne, Head Project Manger of The Fancy-Pants Company, according to Zayn, went to the Grammar School up the street from his public school, and they walked home together every day. Liam went on to bigger and brighter things from there, leading to his fancy title, and now, Zayn was washing Byrne’s Bakers floors. Louis suddenly felt a little broken.

 

Liam did come back, every other day, getting a muffin, or a croissant, trying for stilted conversation with the tanned bloke. Sometimes there were jokes, but there were clearly issues on both sides.

 

“He’s cute though,” Niall once remarked.

 

“Niall!” Louis scolded, swatting him with his rag.

 

“I don’t know. I could never shave my head.” Zayn patted his precious hair with his hands.

 

Louis and Niall rolled their eyes. “We know.”

 

“Too cold.” Zayn continued.

 

Louis and Niall raised their eyebrows, and burst out laughing. Zayn didn’t seem understand.

 

Mary was thrilled to have another loyal, regular customer, and gave Zayn a free vanilla cake with cheesecake frosting (which she made Louis decorate) to congratulate him. Louis knew that it was up to Zayn to keep Liam coming back, though, and he wasn’t so sure how that would happen.

 

Two more months came by, and then, Liam showed up with him, a green eyed boy with chocolate curls and an annoying smile. He had gone up to the register, grinning down at Louis (Louis really hated when people were so tall and they grinned down at him) and said, “Hi.”

 

Louis sat up straighter, watching as semi-hushed conversation took place between Zayn and Liam. “Can I help you?”

 

“Oh, I’m with Liam.”

 

Louis nodded slowly, eyes flicking over to Niall. Niall’s eyebrows lifted sky high- they had theorized that Liam and Zayn were ex’s- the kind that hadn’t exactly ended. Louis shifted on his seat. “So you’ll be on the same bill then.”

 

“Definitely not.”

 

“You’re the one that bolted, Zayn, not me!”

 

“I’ve seen you’re Christmas bonus checks, Liam, you don’t need a guy like me hanging around.”

 

“Don’t you start that again!”

 

“So, what’s good here?” The green eyed boy asked. Louis swallowed.

 

“Depends on what you like.”

 

“I like everything.” The boy shrugged. “Bit of a baker myself.”

 

Niall whooped off to the side. “Louis, give him a Danish.”

 

Louis nodded, “These have some cream cheese icing, cherries and croissant bread.”

 

“Alright.”

 

The boy left left quietly, tipping generously, and Louis flushed when he found the boy’s hand caressing his own, before he winked and sauntered out the door, waiting for Liam. Zayn nearly shoved Liam out the door, growling angrily.

 

“Sounds rough, mate,” Niall suggested.

 

“Liam can be such a brat!” Zayn fumed, pacing the floor. “Such a ridiculous- gah!”

 

Zayn kicked a chair out of anger, sending it flying. He was lucky that it did no damage; Louis didn’t have the heart to send him the bill. Zayn screamed out of anger, clutching his temples.

 

That night, he, Niall- who apparently was a bartender, which explained why he spent every day in their bakery- and Zayn curled up in Louis’s tiny apartment on his fold out couch, eating ice cream. Louis didn’t have a telly- he just streamed whatever he wanted to watch on his computer, so he had his laptop up playing season six Doctor Who episodes. Zayn licked his spoon clean, and no one complained about double dipping. Zayn was miserable enough to earn that privilege.

 

“Liam won’t use spoons. He has no reason for it, but he absolutely refuses to use spoons. Actually, I think he’s cool with wooden cooking ones.” Zayn mused fondly.

 

“So, you like, used to date?”

 

Zayn shrugged. “Sixth form. And in uni. But, like, his parents were really religious, so we didn’t tell anyone. And my parents were like, gutter, I didn’t really care. We decided that, if we made it, we’d wait until he graduated, and we could support ourselves, to come out. His parents, like, his uncles a priest, and his dad’s a preacher, they’d cut him off if they found out.”

 

Niall whistled, spooning out another bite.

 

“And you know what, I didn’t care. He didn’t, really, either. We made it; he graduated, honors and top of his class, got a job straight out. I never made it to uni, though. But we made it. Then he got his job, and promotion after promotion. And I was a waiter who made his parents cut him off.”

 

“So you left him?”

 

“Another promotion, one that was more, in the spot light. He wouldn’t have gotten it if one of his five bosses saw me there, homophobic bastard. Plus all that crap, it was too much.” Zayn fell back on the futon, groaning, running a hand through his midnight locks. The futon creaked, not used to supporting three people. “Louis, your pay check can afford a better bed than this shit.”

 

“I send most of it to my mum and sisters.”

 

The apartment was small and a little dusty; he never did much more than sleep and eat in it. He spent most of his time at the bakery.

 

The three boys lay down, staring up at the ceiling.

 

***

His name was Harry Styles, and he was a flirty ass hole. He came in, each morning, stroking Louis’s hand when he paid and winking those green eyes and ordering something new.

 

“A black and white biscuit, please. Do you make these yourself?”

 

“Not always. Mrs. Byrne does a lot of the baking; I do more of the decorating. Cakes and cupcakes and things.” Louis handed over his change.

 

Harry smiled. “Artsy.”

 

“So, do you work with Liam?” Zayn asked, putting down his Windex.

 

“We share an office.”

 

“How is he?”

 

“How do you mean?”

 

“Like, happy, sad?”

 

“Miserable prat?” Harry replied instead. He shrugged, smiling. “I mean, he’s a lovely person, a good friend, but, no. I don’t think he’s going to be going round planting apple trees any time soon.”

 

“Well, aren’t you cheery.”

 

Harry grinned, smiling widely at Louis. The blue-eyed boy felt his stomach drop; the curly haired boy had dimples. It simply wasn’t fair.

 

“Maybe he’s just stressed out,” Zayn suggested, “like some big projects are getting to him. Or maybe he’s getting like, what’s that thing where people are observing you to see if you should be fired?”

 

“Nah, he can only be fired by a full board vote, and they adore him,” Harry shook his head. “Think of him as their grandson. And Liam’s deals go pretty smoothly.”

 

Louis could hear Zayn muttering under his breath, something that sounded eerily similar to sensible prick, and Harry belted out a laugh.

 

“How’s the biscuit then?”

 

“It’s good! Not my favorite, but good. I’ve never really been fond of black and white biscuits.”

 

“Then why’d you order it?” Louis demanded. He could have saved the cookie for someone who would have actually liked it.

 

Harry shrugged, leaning on the counter to look at Louis. Even leaning on his forearms, he was only seeing eye to eye to Louis. “To try something new.”

 

Louis glared at the curly haired boy. “If you’ve already had one, then it’s not exactly new.”

 

Harry sighed. “Something new at the bakery, then. Tell me, Louis, how often do you try something new?”

 

“I don’t often have the time.” It would soon be lunch hour, and Liam would come in to ask for a cup, along with several other customers. Niall started snickering, and Louis started suppressing a strange urge to kick him.

 

It wasn’t until a week later that Harry finished the conversation. Liam and Zayn were on kinder terms by then, whispering outside while Zayn washed the windows. Liam had bought him leather gloves, and Zayn wore them every day, and every day, Liam smiled.

 

“He’s like a puppy,” Niall commented. Liam shook his head.

 

“I am not.”

 

“Have you ever had clams, Louis?”

 

Louis shut the register draw. “Clams?”

 

“Like what mermaids where on their breasts?” Niall asked. “There was this girl at the bar last night, my god, you should have seen her. Wait, you’re all gay. You wouldn’t care.”

 

“This is a bakery, Niall.” Louis swatted him. “We’re sweet.”

 

“I’m thinking of smaller ones.” Harry glared at the Irishman. “In a red sauce, with noodles.”

 

“Just say yes, before Harry starts crying in the car again.” Liam pleaded, actually looking downtrodden.

 

Louis looked up at Harry, who’s usually smirk was absent, but his hand was inching forward slowly across the counter, trying to reach Louis’s. “Please?”

 

***

 

Louis should have remembered that Harry worked in the same office as Liam, meaning that when Liam’s Christmas bonus was well over 15,000, so was Harry’s. So when Harry said a car would be picking him up, he meant a fancy car would be picking him up.

 

One with a chauffeur and remote controlled privacy wall.

 

But Louis had forgotten this, and had shown up in slacks and a simple jacket, while Harry had a bow tie and was laughing at him. “It’s alright. Come on.”

 

The menu didn’t even have prices on it, just names and descriptions of the meals. But Harry ordered them “the spicy muscles for the appetizers, you know the ones, yes that, and he’ll have the penne alla vongole with red sauce and I’ll have the steak” and Louis just nodded to pretend like he knew what was going on.

 

Muscles turned out to be mussels and were delicious, once he figured out how to eat them. Harry ordered them table wine, a whole bottle, despite the fact that Louis insisted that he wasn’t a wine drinker, but it was quite good. Harry fed him the little yellow mussels, trying to explain what they were, but Louis just shook his head, giggling and lost.

 

Louis was pretty sure that clams, oysters and mussels were all in the same family. The penne that Harry had ordered was amazing, a little bit spicy and the clams were just a bit chewy in the best way.

 

 

Louis had told himself that he wouldn’t enjoy this date. He would get Harry Styles, the boy who wasted biscuits, out of the bakery that would hopefully one day be his. But then Harry ordered a molten lava cake, and Louis was halfway through his second glass of wine, and Harry reached forward, and said, “Here.”

 

With one strong thumb, he tilted Louis’s chin up slightly, and wiped at Louis’s lip. “You had some chocolate there.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Harry smirked. “You thought I was going to kiss you.”

 

“I did not! I don’t kiss on the first date I would have smacked you!” Louis protested. Harry shook his head, laughing.

 

“Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?” Harry murmured.

 

Louis blushed, crinkling his nose.

 

***

 

“How long have you worked here?” Harry asked, over his evening tea. Niall had left just half an hour ago, Zayn was on his break, and the mood had gone quiet with their absence. Harry had taken to coming again in the afternoons after work, leaving behind his fancy jackets and bow ties.

 

“A good, five, six years now?” Louis huffed, wiping his hands on his apron.

 

Harry tilted his head. “You can’t be that old.”

 

“You’re quite young to be making the money you do.”

 

“I graduated early.”

 

“As did I.” Louis smiled. “English doesn’t take that long apparently. And I was working here all the while, and Mary loved me.”

 

“I’ve never met Mary.” Harry murmured. “Would she like me?”

 

“She already does! You’re a regular!” Louis declared, pouring Harry another cup and doling out his honey and lemon. “She loves all her customers, especially the ones that return.”

 

“So she must adore you.”

 

Louis shrugged, smiling. Harry put down his cup, staring down at the bottom. “How come I’ve never seen the inside of your flat?”

 

Louis swallowed. They had picnicked in Harry’s flat- a two story with two master bedrooms, walk in closets, and windows Louis could stand in. Louis put the kettle down, and shrugged his shoulders. “You’ve seen my flat.”

 

“I’ve seen the door to you’re flat.”

 

“My flat is nothing compared to yours, really, you don’t want to see it.” Louis insisted. He didn’t want Harry, with the glass stairwells, and the temper-pedic beds and the downy blankets, to see his futon couch-and-bed, kitchenette flat.

 

“But it’s yours. You know? We hardly ever talk about you.” Harry’s large hand cupped Louis’s cheek. “Your flat is all about you. It’ll tell me so much.”

 

“Harry, you’re being creepy again.” Louis muttered.

 

“Oi! No PDA!” Zayn yelled, flicking his cigarette out into the street, announcing the end of his break.

 

“Zayn, tell Louis to let me in his flat.”

 

“Don’t break the futon, alright? He needs that.” Zayn muttered under his breath.

 

“What’s a futon?” Harry’s emerald eyes filled with confusion, and Louis’s cheeks heated up. “What is it, Lou?”

 

“A futon, it’s like… a bed, but it bends up into a couch, and it’s less expensive.” He said quietly.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.” Harry asked, furrowing his brow. Louis had to repeat himself, but louder.

 

“It’s just, easy, and inexpensive, alright?”

 

“But, surely, you make enough to-?”

 

“I have four sisters,” Louis explained. “Five, because of my dad, and Lottie isn’t exactly- they need me, Mum doesn’t make enough for all of them. I send them everything that I can. I only have to take care of me.”

 

“But-“

 

“You wouldn’t understand, Harry.” Louis snapped, narrowing his eyes. Harry only had one sister, and their mother had been wealthy all along. They were old money, all the same. Harry had no idea what it meant to go hungry at night so your siblings could eat. Harry had no idea what it meant to scrape pennies together to equal something more.

 

“Louis, please,” Harry’s eyes were watering, and his lips were trembling, but Louis shook his head. This was his place of work, but he couldn’t stand to look at Harry any longer.

 

“Please, get out.”

 

And he did. He grabbed his bow tie and jacket, and stormed out. Louis dropped his head into his hands, and groaned. Zayn walked over, shushing him softly, and rubbing is back.

 

“First fights are hard, mate.”

 

“He just- he just doesn’t-“

 

“I know. Trust me, I know. That’s why I left Liam, remember?” Zayn sighed, tapping his fingers on the counter over the red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. “I didn’t think it could get better, him and me while we in school and sneaking off to fancy places. I’d convince him to let me break us in, and he’d pay for wherever we were going next.”

 

Louis watched the tattooed boy reminisce sadly.

 

“God, his dad was obsessed with him getting a bird, though.” Zayn leaned his head back, rubbing his Zap tattoo blankly. “Liam dated a girl called Danielle for a whole year, one month was while he was with me, it was terrible. I think its what made him go for me, actually, finally say no. But after that, his dad kept trying to find another one wouldn’t let up. Liam look at that one, isn’t this one pretty, look at the arse on her? Rudest man I’ve ever heard. But it’s a different society on a whole.”

 

“Doesn’t excuse it.”

 

“No. But we can’t understand it any better than Harry can understand why you sleep on a futon every night.” Zayn smirked. “But, Liam and I are working it out. You guys can try, too.”

***

That night, Louis planned to watch rom-coms, eat some ice cream and cuddle on his futon in his sweat pants and sweatshirt. He had out his laptop up, debating between something stupid funny or clever funny, when someone knocked.

 

And really, he should have guessed. Harry looked rather pathetic, with a box in his hands and his shoulders sagging more than his usual bad posture allowed. Louis kept his door mostly closed, not letting Harry see inside. “What do you want?”

 

“I tried to find molten lava cake. But it was a little late,” Harry explained, holding out the box for him. Louis extended his hand, accepting the box. Inside was a slice of cake: double chocolate chip, if the spots weren’t lying.

 

“You couldn’t have a chef prepare you some?”

 

“That’s not funny, Louis.” Harry pursed his lips. “I’m trying here. And I know that- I know it’s hard, and I know that there are some gaps here and there, but I would like to try, and you’re not even trying.”

 

“This.” Louis gestured between the two of them, “Tore Liam and Zayn apart.”

 

“Zayn ran away.”

 

“Zayn ran because he thought it was better for Liam.” Louis spat.

 

“They were children, Louis!” Harry insisted, grabbing hold of Louis’s free hand. Louis’s breath hitched, like it always did when Harry surprised him. “We’re out of our parents homes, you pay for your sisters, and we’re not Zayn and Liam!”

 

Louis looked down at the cake in his hands.

 

“Next year?”

 

“Next year,” Mary smiled. “It’s all done. You can handle it, I’m positive.”

 

“But. It’s just.”

 

“You’ve already been doing most of it, the books, the taxes. Now you just need you’re name.”

 

“But- it’s Byrne’s Bakers.”

“And now it’s Louis’s.”

 

It wasn’t fair of Harry, when he had so little to loose. If Louis failed with the bakery, failed with Harry, then Louis and his family would be on the street and he would be alone. But Harry could just go to the next bakery with Liam and he would be fine.

 

“I can’t promise you years, I know that,” Harry said slower than he usually did. “Maybe only one or two. But you and me, I can feel it, we will last a while. Just give me a chance, okay?”

 

Louis dropped his head against his doorframe, and sighed. “I’m not letting you into my flat yet, though.” 

 

***

Walking in on Liam and Zayn kissing was like walking into an alternate universe. Niall near dropped his pizza, and pizza was sacred to him. Hearing them come in, Liam rushed to the other side of the room, straightening out his clothes, face flushed, and Zayn tried to neaten his thoroughly run through hair, but there wasn’t much to be done.

 

“Uh,” Louis nodded slowly. “Been watching the store?”

 

Zayn nodded furiously. “Not many customers.”

 

“I wonder why!” Niall accused. Louis nodded slowly in agreement, blue eyes wide.

 

***

 

Zayn wasn’t surprised to find out that Mary was retiring. He had been a little bit shocked that Louis would be taking over.

 

“It’s not that much more to do, actually. My name goes on the lease, there’s a bit more baking, I already do the books cause she hates it.”

 

“And the profit.”

 

Louis paused.

 

“You know what I’ll do with that. I also can give out promotions, Zayn.” Louis put his hands on his hips. “You’ve just been cleaning for a while. And If I’m back there covered in flour I can’t work the till, now can I? Now, I could just go out and hire some one else. I hear Harry’s a baker.”

 

“Oi, no, don’t you dare!” Zayn shook his head. “You don’t even know if he- he’s already- oh come on!”

 

***

 

They didn’t advertise Mary’s leaving, for fear of any loyal customers leaving. In fact, they didn’t change a single thing, just slowly, Mary started showing up less, until, eventually, she was never there.

 

The first time Harry saw Louis’s flat was Valentine’s Day, after an evening out. They had been together for four months since that dinner with the molten lava cake, and, after a long talk with Zayn, Louis had decided to open his door.

 

Harry grinned, and Louis tried too. “Really, it’s not much.”

 

He had tried to clean it up- straightened up the pictures, scrubbed down the counter and toilet. Louis did everything he could to make it as nice as possible for Valentine’s Day, for his green eyed, curly haired, dimpled Harry.

 

And Harry smiled, turned to him and said, “It’s lovely, Louis.”

 

Louis looked up at him, tugging down his knit cap. “Really?”

 

Harry nodded. “Really.”

 

The customers stayed, well after they discovered that Mary Byrne had retired and Louis had taken over. At first they had been wary, of course, knowing that Louis hadn’t been the baker, just the decorator. They knew Louis as the long-lashed, sarcastic boy at the register, but the cakes tasted the same, and he had always made great tea, and the best cream cheese icing around. So they stayed.

 

Zayn and Liam announced that they were getting married in April, making Niall spit out his tea all over Louis’s shirt. Harry was Liam’s best man, and Louis was Zayn’s. Niall was the Ring Bearer and the Flower Girl, and no one dared laugh. Louis, of course, made the cake.

 

Harry proposed during their honeymoon. Louis thought about saying no, to see how he’d react, but he said yes, anyway.


End file.
